Crimson Trails
by Sinnatious
Summary: TezRyo Vampire AU. Tezuka finds himself the captive of a rather unusual vampire.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer**: Tenipuri does not belong to me. This fic was written purely for enjoyment, and in no way have I profited from it.

**Rating:** T for blood, violence and adult themes.

**Author's Note: **I normally detest vampire stories, for the record. But alas, there was sort of an unofficial vampire AU festival over on LJ, so I wrote this one. In three parts. Second part will be posted tomorrow.

* * *

**Crimson Trails**

By Sinnatious

Part 1/3

* * *

The streets were cold and quiet. The only sign of life was the occasional pedestrian shuffling past with their eyes firmly fixed on the damp pavement. A lone streetlamp flickered and buzzed, struggling for life before winking out. The alley was plunged into darkness. Tezuka pulled his jacket a little closer around himself, and wished his footsteps wouldn't echo so loudly off the concrete.

A pebble skittered across the path. His gait slowed briefly, but no one stepped out onto the street. A cat, perhaps? It was hard to see – even the stores had shut off their lights for the evening. The trains had stopped running, and Tezuka hadn't heard the hum of a car engine for several minutes. It really was the graveyard shift.

He picked up his pace again, eager to escape the bite of cold night air. Fatigue tugged at his muscles, but he ignored it. It had been a long day, and he was only a few more blocks from home.

A breath of air ghosted over the back of his neck, causing the flesh to prickle. Tezuka stopped and turned abruptly, eyes straining the darkness.

Nothing. Was he just being paranoid?

The night air was eerily still – even the crickets were silent - and the shadows casts by the few stuttering streetlights were long and distorted. Tezuka shivered, heart racing. He suddenly desperately wanted to be home, safely ensconced in his warm, bright apartment.

Casting one last glance into the shadows – was it just his imagination after all? – Tezuka turned back around, intent on hurrying home, but bumped into something solid instead.

He caught only a glimpse of golden eyes and white fangs before his world collapsed into darkness.

* * *

Consciousness was a slippery thing. Once or twice Tezuka wandered near it, brought there by unfamiliar sounds. He had the oddest sensation of being dragged, but the pounding in his head made it difficult to care or consider why.

It wasn't until a sharp pain blossomed in his right wrist that he was jerked to full awareness. His eyes snapped open and darted wildly across the room. His vision spun crazily, and seemed incredibly out of focus. It took a minute to realise that his glasses were skew, distorting his sight in strange ways.

His wrist throbbed faintly, drawing his attention to it. Now that he was awake, he was aware of a moist, stroking sensation at the source of the pain, and cold fingers clutching his elbow and hand. His gaze wandered to his arm, but a head of green-black hair blocked his vision.

Tezuka cleared his throat. "Hello?" Why was his head still pounding? And where on earth was he? It appeared to be a bedroom of some description, but it was in no house that he recognised. It looked to be in rather poor repair, with a thick layer of dust coating everything and cobwebs decorating the corners.

No response. "Hello?" he tried again, a little more insistently this time. "Where am I?"

The head tilted slightly – just enough for a single golden eye to stare at him. The stranger seemed to disregard him a moment later, returning to his preoccupation.

Tezuka jerked on his arm a little, but pale fingers kept a fiercely tight grip on it. "Who are you? What are you doing?" he demanded. The stranger continued to ignore him. Frowning, Tezuka raised his free hand to the top of his head, feeling for the source of the throbbing. His fingers slid across a small lump.

In that instant, he recalled the last sight he'd seen before falling unconscious. Golden eyes. White fangs. He'd been attacked!

Golden eyes…

Apprehension growing, Tezuka tugged harder on his arm. The grip did not slacken, but it was enough to move the stranger so that he could see. A pink tongue darted out again, lapping at his wrist. The source of the stroking sensation, he realised. Rivulets of blood trickled down his fingers. The man was licking them up, coarse tongue darting across his skin hungrily.

A hundred horror stories and fantasy novels leapt through his head in a matter of seconds. _Vampire_!

Summoning a strength he didn't know he possessed, Tezuka wrenched his arm free, throwing the stranger away. He scrambled backwards, cradling the wounded wrist to his chest while his eyes searched wildly for a door. The stranger clambered back to his feet, and lurched towards him. "Stay back!" Tezuka barked.

Surprisingly, the forward lurch halted. Tezuka eyed the man warily, and realised that he was actually more of a boy – he looked to still be a teenager, probably only a couple of years younger than him. He was deathly pale, and obviously hadn't seen sunlight for some time. His golden eyes reminded Tezuka faintly of a cat with the way they seemed to glow in the darkness. The thing that most captivated his attention, however, was a pair of gleaming white fangs.

Tezuka thought he might slide into shock at any moment. Vampires really did exist. He'd reacted instinctively, but confronted with the very real notion of a horror story come to life, fear started to curl in his stomach. His eyes finally located the door, and he silently cursed when he realised the vampire was quite effectively blocking his path to it.

The vampire, for his part, was busy staring at the blood dripping from his wrist to the floor. "You're wasting it." He took a step forward.

"Stay back!" Tezuka repeated.

The pair of sneakers stopped again. Tezuka spared a moment to be perplexed at the thought of a vampire wearing sneakers.

The vampire regarded him at length, appearing disgruntled. "Fine. I'll come back later." He looked annoyed as he stomped through the door.

"Wait-!" Tezuka started when the door slammed shut. The click of a lock echoed through the dusty room.

Alarmed, he ran to it and tried the doorknob anyway, but it held securely. Eyes straining in the dim light, he spied a window, but it was boarded up. He tugged at the boards with his left hand, but only succeeded in gaining a few splinters. No escape that way.

A chill swept through him. He was trapped. The vampire had kidnapped him.

* * *

Tezuka lost count of how many hours he sat in the musty room for – he'd fallen into an uneasy sleep at some point, so had no idea whether his watch was reading a.m. or p.m. anymore. The window was boarded so securely no light crept through the cracks. It made sense – a vampire wouldn't want sunlight getting into his abode. Opening the cupboards, he found some old moth-eaten blankets, but hadn't wanted to risk wrapping the wound on his wrist with something potentially unclean. He wound up ripping off part of a sleeve from his shirt to staunch the bleeding.

It was actually quite a shallow cut, he discovered – with only a little pressure the bleeding stopped quite quickly, and he was able to discard of the makeshift bandage without concern. It was a trifle, really, and hardly the worst of his discomforts. Tezuka was growing quite thirsty, and felt the rumble of hunger in his stomach starting to grow more insistent.

A vampire. That thought wouldn't stop whirling in his head. A hundred questions plagued him. What should he do? He needed a weapon. But there wasn't anything in the room that he could use. Were vampires weak to silver, or was that werewolves? The only way to actually kill them was with a wooden stake to the heart, wasn't it? Sunlight and holy water could weaken them, but Tezuka had access to neither. For that matter, he couldn't be entirely certain that the vampires of fiction would match with reality at all. If the boarded windows were any indication, though, at least the sunlight theory was probably true.

His attention was caught by a sound outside of the door. Footsteps. He tensed, but didn't move from his position in the corner of the room. The lock on the door clicked, and it creaked open slowly. A head of green-black head poked into the room. When the vampire saw Tezuka sitting in the corner, he relaxed a little, and entered the rest of the way, kicking the door shut behind him. Tezuka was a little surprised to see that he was carrying a tray, with food and a jug of water on it.

The vampire set down the tray, and took several steps away. When Tezuka didn't move, he folded his arms and demanded, "Aren't you hungry?"

Tezuka eyed the tray distrustfully. There was a bowl of soggy-looking rice accompanying a plate featuring an assortment of vegetables and what looked to be microwaved fish sticks.

The vampire glared at him. "I went to a lot of trouble to arrange that for you. You'd better eat it."

It didn't look very tasty, but Tezuka was rather hungry and didn't particularly want to anger his captor. Cautiously, he dragged the tray over to him, and drank thirstily from the jug – no glass had been provided. Once the cool liquid had soothed his parched throat, he turned his attention to the lacklustre meal in front of him. At least the fish sticks were still warm.

He ate quickly, conscious of the heavy golden gaze resting on him like an invisible blanket. Every time he risked a glance, the vampire was staring at him with a bored expression of his face.

When his plate had been cleaned, he pushed it away and turned to face the room's other occupant. The vampire's eyes brightened and he stood, making his way over to him.

"What now?' Tezuka asked warily, scooting backwards a little.

"Now it's my turn." Pale, slender fingers reached out and snatched his injured wrist. A thin switchblade appeared above it.

Tezuka tugged on his arm frantically, but the vampire growled deep in his throat and he ceased his efforts. "What are you-"

"It's only fair!" the boy snapped, deftly slicing the blade through his skin and reopening the wound. Tezuka barely contained a wince. "You ate, so I should too." The vampire brought his wrist to his mouth as the dark red liquid bubbled forth, and started sucking on the wound.

Tezuka didn't dare move. The vampire had closed his eyes, and wore an almost blissful expression on his face. It wasn't an unpleasant sensation – the wound only stung a little, and the press of lips and tongue against his skin was distraction enough to ignore any pain. He forced himself to remain calm despite the terror coursing through him. Was the vampire planning to keep him around as a steady source of food? It certainly seemed that way.

They sat like that for some time – Tezuka too terrified to move and the vampire completely absorbed in the blood dripping from his wrist. He tried to occupy himself by observing his captor, but there really wasn't a whole lot to observe. Aside from the pale skin, golden eyes and fangs, the vampire resembled any other teenager. He wore ordinary clothes, ordinary shoes, and sported an ordinary haircut. He was not at all similar to the vampires of legend, with their long hair and flowing capes and aristocratic features.

Eventually, just as Tezuka started to feel a little light-headed, the vampire drew back with a frown. "Hn. The blood clotted." Golden eyes darted to Tezuka, seeming to assess him. "S'pose I shouldn't take anymore today anyway." He gazed somewhat longingly at the wrist again, but let it drop.

He stood to leave, but Tezuka still had too many questions. "Why am I here?"

The vampire turned back to face him, raising an eyebrow. "Isn't it obvious?"

"You expect me to just sit here and be your food?" Tezuka asked coldly.

Eyes narrowed, he replied, "I have to eat too." The question appeared to upset him, and for a second Tezuka wondered if he'd been too bold, but after a moment the vampire's expression cooled again. He glanced around the room appraisingly. "I guess it would be a little boring. I'll bring you some books later." The matter apparently closed, he started back towards the door again.

"I was under the impression that when you drank a human's blood without killing them, they turned into a vampire too," Tezuka murmured.

The vampire halted once more and folded his arms with a scowl. "Only if you sink in the fangs. I drank from your wrist. I don't want to have some newborn to look after." His voice wavered a little at that, which made Tezuka curious. Had he turned another vampire before that caused trouble?

Still, that made sense. If this vampire needed to capture him for a steady source of blood, turning him would defeat the whole point. It would just be two sets of fangs to feed instead of one. That gave him a chance, at least. He doubted that his captor would just let him go, but if he was going to keep him alive then there remained the possibility of escape.

"Are there others like you?"

Another scowl. "Of course there are."

"How do they survive? Do they all do this?" Surely there weren't that many missing people in the world.

The vampire was starting to look uncomfortable. How odd. "I don't know."

"You don't – do you communicate with any others at all?" he guessed.

A careless shrug. "Is that all you have to ask?"

Not by a long shot. "Why me?"

"No special reason. You looked healthy, and were alone on the streets at night. Just your bad luck. Now if you'll excuse me…"

"Wait!"

"What is it now?" the vampire snapped impatiently.

"My name is Tezuka." Maybe if he treated this like a hostage situation… was it even possible to get a vampire to care about whether he had friends and family that would miss him, though?

"So?" Probably not. He seemed the callous type.

"So what do I call you?"

The vampire paused for quite a long time, and then heaved a suffering sigh. "…Ryoma." He abruptly turned on his heel and left the room. The clicking lock reverberated loudly in the sudden silence.

"Ryoma," Tezuka repeated out loud, testing the word. At least his captor had a name now.

* * *

Five hours later, the door was flung open by an irate vampire. "What?! Stop making such a racket!" From his dishevelled state, Tezuka guessed that Ryoma must have been asleep.

"I need to go to the bathroom," Tezuka stated plainly.

Shoulders slumping, Ryoma opened the door a little wider in invitation. "Don't even think of trying to escape."

Tezuka didn't think he'd have a chance – not right then, anyway. But his captor would slip up eventually. He was patient. He could bide his time and wait for the right moment.

Walking through the hallway towards the bathroom, it appeared that the rest of the house was a little better kept than the room he'd awoken in – the worst of the dust and cobwebs were cleared away – but it was still sparsely furnished. He didn't get much of a chance to look, as Ryoma was pointing him to the bathroom.

The window in the bathroom was boarded up too. Tezuka took his time, taking stock of his appearance in the mirror. Was the myth about vampires not reflecting true? Maybe later he'd get the chance to ask.

While a yawning Ryoma escorted him back to his room, he tentatively asked, "Could I at least get a pillow? It's hard to sleep on the floor."

The vampire's face twisted into an expression of distaste, and he shoved him back into the room. The door closed and the lock clicked. He supposed that was a 'no'.

To his surprise, though, not a minute later the door swung open again, and a pillow was thrown inside.

"Thank you," Tezuka called as the door shut abruptly, mostly as a reflex courtesy.

There was no response. Tezuka hadn't expected one.

* * *

Over the next couple of days, Tezuka fell into something of an odd routine. Ryoma would let him out to use the bathroom and shower twice a day, and usually turned up sometime around eight o'clock and four o'clock with food – though he had no idea whether that it was during day or night.

Naturally whenever Tezuka ate Ryoma would too. "You can't keep re-opening that cut. It will get infected," Tezuka pointed out.

Ryoma growled deep in his throat. Tezuka resisted the urge to recoil at the slightly feral look in his eyes. "What do you propose I do, then?"

"Try somewhere else."

"Where?"

"The shoulder or something. Don't vampires usually drink from people's necks?" Tezuka didn't really like the idea of having a blade anywhere near his throat, but he also wasn't fond of having the same wound reopened every day. It had started to throb recently.

"I might cut an artery or something," Ryoma protested, looking unsure. "The wrist is the best."

For a vampire, he didn't seem to have a lot of ideas about how to draw blood. "At least somewhere else on the arm. Give it a chance to heal."

"Fine, the elbow then." Ryoma hesitated, then grit his teeth and swept the blade across his elbow. It hurt, but Tezuka was used to it by now. He leaned his head back against the wall and stared at the ceiling as the vampire crouched next to him, sucking at his elbow and lapping up the trails of blood that escaped. At least he was relatively gentle.

"Hey," he said when he started to feel a little dizzy. Ryoma reluctantly stopped drinking and rolled out a bandage. He obviously procured them from somewhere after Tezuka pointed out his need for them. The vampire didn't seem terribly interested in making him comfortable – so far all his little room had gained was some newer blankets, a few sets of fresh clothes and a modest pile of books – but at least he had a vested interested in his continued good health.

Ryoma didn't leave immediately after feeding anymore – he started to linger longer and longer, often just sitting there quietly. Tezuka was just guessing, but he was probably the only company the vampire had. Did vampires get lonely? In any case, he took advantage of it wherever possible. There were mysteries to be solved, and weakness to be found so that he could escape. The company had the added benefit of dulling his boredom, too.

Conversations with Ryoma were a strange beast to control, though. The vampire was perhaps even less talkative than he himself, and the strangest topics could prompt him to leave the room without a word. Tezuka often spoke about his work or his colleagues, hoping that he could perhaps gain Ryoma's sympathy and earn his freedom. The vampire _was_ rather keen to hear about a number of things about the outside world, but often grew depressed over the topic and would leave. Did he perhaps miss normal life? How old was he, anyway?

"Do you have any hobbies?" Tezuka asked. Admittedly he sometimes stayed with safe topics just to keep Ryoma there longer. Tezuka wasn't sure if vampires got lonely, but was forced to admit that the lack of human contact was getting to him. He'd never been a terribly social individual, but was finding himself missing the presence of his work colleagues all the same.

Was anyone looking for him? It was probable that his colleagues would be suspicious at his abrupt absence – Oishi at the very least was probably worrying himself sick imagining all sorts of horrid fates that might have befallen him. Somehow he doubted that his friend would consider this scenario, though. And even if the police were looking for him, Tezuka didn't like his chances of being found. Being abducted in the dead of the night with no witnesses by a mythical creature wouldn't leave much of a trail for anyone to follow.

A pair of green-black eyebrows furrowed at the question. "Hobbies… not really."

"Nothing?"

"Video games, maybe? But I haven't played for a while." It was a weird choice, but Tezuka supposed it made sense. It was the sort of hobby that could be performed indoors. "What about you?"

"Reading. Mountain climbing. Fishing." Tezuka closed his eyes, imagining the sensation of a fresh breeze on his skin and warm sunlight on his face. In this surreal situation, it was hard to imagine ever experiencing those sensations again. "Have you ever been fishing?"

The vampire frowned. Right, sunlight. Of course not. "Che, fishing sounds boring anyway."

"I suppose you'd be more interested in catching humans than fish," Tezuka remarked, mildly amused.

"Hn. A fish might be less work to keep."

Were _all_ vampires this lazy, or had Tezuka just been unlucky? "You've hardly gone out of your way to make me comfortable. I don't even have a bed."

"And a fish wouldn't complain."

"A fish would only feed you for a day, but I'm an ongoing food supply," Tezuka pointed out, then paused at how morbid his sense of his humour was becoming. Apparently having a vampire sucking on your wrist every day could do that to you.

"True. A fish wouldn't taste as good." This last part was added in a purr. It sent shivers down Tezuka's spine that were decidedly not based on fear.

"To think my new career is drink dispensing," he remarked dryly. "I've certainly fallen far."

Ryoma frowned. "Hey, it's more useful than… what did you say you were doing?"

"Architecture."

"Right. Architecture. What were you building?"

"I'm still just a junior; I'm only allowed to do basic floor plans. My company has been designing hospitals."

"Hospitals," Ryoma mused, then flashed a fanged grin at him. "Feeding me is still more important."

Selfish brat. Tezuka couldn't summon the energy to care. "It's not like I have much of a choice, right?"

The vampire frowned, standing abruptly. "Do you need more books yet?"

"That would be nice," Tezuka ventured hesitantly.

A sigh. "A fish wouldn't read so fast."

The next day, Ryoma left a pile of books on mountain climbing, fishing and architecture behind after feeding. Tezuka had already read half of them, but appreciated the gesture all the same.

* * *

"What do you want this time?" Ryoma asked with a suffering sigh, eyeing the small tower of books distastefully.

Tezuka pursed his lips in thought. "How about books on vampires?"

"Books? There are books on vampires?" Ryoma asked, suddenly interested.

Frowning, Tezuka answered, "I don't see why not. They'd probably be in the fiction or fantasy section, but given that vampires actually exist there are bound to be lots of useful books on them."

Ryoma hummed at that, looking thoughtful, then wary. "You're not trying to find some way to kill me, are you?"

It was in the back of his mind. Tezuka gestured around the room. "Do you really think I'd be able to find something to kill you with in here?"

"Then why are you interested?"

"If I'm to become a food source, I'd like to know what I'm feeding. And maybe we can find a more effective way for you to drink blood," he remarked wryly, holding up his bandaged right arm.

Ryoma nodded. "Okay." He seemed excited, muttering under his breath. "Books, books, why didn't I think of books?"

It must have only been hours later when he shouldered open the door carrying a pile of books with him. He dumped them on the ground with a thud. Tezuka thought his eyes might fall out of his head. "So many?"

"I don't know if they're any good," Ryoma muttered. He picked the first couple up off the top of the pile, fangs worrying his bottom lip. Tezuka was oddly fascinated by the habit, and wondered if the vampire ever accidentally bit through his own tongue. Those teeth looked frightfully sharp, and gleamed even in the dull light. Did vampires use toothpaste? Ryoma discarded the books back on to the pile, breaking his train of thought. "I just grabbed anything that might be related. Half of them look like novels."

Tezuka turned his attention to the pile of literature. "How do you get all these books, anyway?"

"There's a bookstore nearby that stays open until midnight."

That was somewhat less exotic than the image he had conjured of Ryoma breaking into and prowling around a dark library in the moonlight. Tezuka gingerly picked up the book at the top of the pile – Brad Stoker's _Dracula_. He'd already read it once years ago, but maybe in light of his current situation a revisit was in order. He shuffled through a few more books, picking out the reference-type ones and setting those aside to read first.

Ryoma was nodding, looking pleased. "Tell me about them later." With that pronouncement, he whisked back out the door. Tezuka blinked. Was he going to be tested on it?

Maybe Ryoma just wanted to have a laugh at the authors getting all the details wrong. He seemed the type. Still, giving his prisoner books on vampires? It struck him as a little foolish. Tezuka only suggested it as a long shot. He certainly hadn't expected to be overloaded with a pile of books on the subject.

Ryoma was the weirdest vampire he'd ever met. He was the _only_ vampire Tezuka had ever met, but he suspected it wouldn't make a difference.

Tezuka opened the first book with a heavy sigh. This was going to take hours. Fortunately, he had all the spare time in the world.

* * *

"The only universal constant I've found so far is that vampires have a weakness to sunlight. Although several texts suggested that the older the vampire the weaker the effect would be."

Ryoma nodded. "Good, good, what else?" He peered over his shoulder. Tezuka tried not to flinch at the breath of warm air on his neck. It was hard to relax whenever those gleaming white fangs wandered near his throat.

"About half said that holy water and crosses were effective, and half of those said they only worked if the vampire himself was religious. Several suggested that garlic was an effective ward."

That seemed to amuse Ryoma. He'd given Tezuka microwaved garlic bread as part of his meal the night before. "Heh. The smell would drive _anyone_ away."

"There were a few that suggested vampires could turn into mist or bats." He cast a curious glance at his captor, seeking confirmation. All he received was a raised eyebrow in response. "The only universal way of identifying vampires appeared to be by a lack of reflection."

"Rubbish. I see my reflection in the mirror every day," Ryoma dismissed. "Did you find anything out about feeding?"

Tezuka shook his head. "The vast majority used the fangs in the neck method. It always resulted in either turning or death." Ryoma scowled. Tezuka closed the reference book on his lap with a thump. "That's all I have so far." There had been a little more than that, but none of it seemed relevant.

"What about all these?" Ryoma asked, waving a hand at a pile of novels.

Tezuka coughed, feeling his face grow warm. "Those are, um, romance novels. I read them just in case, but I don't think that there was anything useful in there."

His own discomfort eased some when he noticed the vampire's pale cheeks colour slightly. It had been difficult to sleep after reading some rather erotic vampire tales. Most of it was just trash fiction, but the vivid imagery still left Tezuka feeling slightly uncomfortable that day when Ryoma sucked on the ends of his fingertips to catch the blood dripping from them. He'd successfully ignored the vampire's rather… _intimate_… way of feeding until now, but with those stories still fresh in his mind…

"If you're so curious about literature of your kind, why don't you read all these yourself?" he asked.

Ryoma stood and stretched, letting out a yawn. With his golden eyes and fangs, he really did resemble a sleepy cat right then. "It'd take too long to get through all that. You can do it."

Tezuka thought he might have to write his own book on vampires at this rate. Maybe next time he would ask his captor for some paper and pens. He already had the first sentence planned: _Vampires are exceptionally lazy_.

* * *

Tezuka bounced the back of his head repeatedly against the wall. Ryoma glared at him. "Stop that."

Sighing, Tezuka turned his head away. He just couldn't bring himself to make conversation today. The walls felt like they were closing in.

"Do you need any more books?"

He shook his head.

Ryoma leant against him, trailing a finger up and down his arm. It tickled faintly. The amusement was lost when he realised that the vampire was probably tracing the path of his veins.

How long had he been trapped in this house for?

* * *

Tezuka remained carefully still as Ryoma's tongue ran down his arm, collecting up a thin trail of blood that had leaked past his lips. They were using the shoulder this time, and while it was a little too close to the neck for Tezuka's peace of mind, it didn't sting every time he moved it the way his wrist and elbow did.

Ryoma sat back with a satisfied sigh, running a pink tongue carefully over his lips to collect any missing drops of crimson, then quickly wrapped a bandage around the wound. Tezuka had noticed that the vampire hated seeing any blood get wasted.

"Did you find anything more in the books?"

"Nothing interesting." He tested the bandage, but it held securely. Ryoma was getting rather good at it.

"Hmm. I could try and find more."

"I would need to get into a library," Tezuka pointed out. "No bookstore is going to have a range larger than this."

The vampire grimaced. "There are no libraries within walking distance that open late enough."

"I could go," Tezuka offered.

He was instantly pinned by the full force of a golden glare. "You'd leave." It wasn't a question.

Tezuka sighed. "Escort me if you must, but at least let me outside." He was craving a change of scenery. The same plain hardwood walls, boarded window and plaster ceiling was slowly driving him insane. His desperation to escape had been growing lately, but Ryoma never completely let his guard down – not even when feeding.

The vampire just shook his head firmly. "You stay here. You'll try something if we go outside."

The past few conversations had gone quite well, so Tezuka was feeling bold. "Are you going to keep me here forever?" he asked abruptly.

Ryoma's expression grew guarded, and he remained stonily silent.

"I've been missing for what… weeks now? I can't keep living like this forever. It's wrong to keep me here."

"What are you suggesting I should do? Let you go?" His voice was cold.

"Yes."

"You'll bring people to kill me."

It would be the responsible thing to do, but admitting it would hardly help his cause. "I doubt anyone would believe me."

"What am _I_ supposed to do?" Ryoma snarled, standing. His hands were shaking.

Tezuka didn't have an answer for that, but sought to placate the vampire. "Maybe… does it have to be humans? Could you drink animal's blood?"

Pale hands clenched into fists. "I've tried it. I subsisted off animal blood for as long as I could. But it's not enough." A sort of desperate hunger was growing in those golden eyes. "It's like… it's like sucking on fruit to get water, instead of drinking it from a tap. It'll keep you from dying of thirst, but only barely."

It certainly sounded unpleasant. "Maybe from a hospital…"

"Steal it?" Ryoma sounded close to hysterical. "Oh, that'll go well. You think I haven't thought of that before?"

"Perhaps I-"

"Forget it," Ryoma snapped, whirling and heading to the door.

Tezuka was becoming desperate. It was foolish, but he honestly didn't know how much longer he could handle being cooped up in that room with his blood being drained away just as fast as his body could replenish it. On impulse, he leapt to his feet and lunged for the vampire.

Their bodies connected with a loud thump and they tumbled to the floor. Ryoma let out a strangled gasp of surprise, half twisting around to try and push him off. Tezuka caught one of his hands, pinning it to the ground easily. Ryoma's other hand held the switchblade, but he hesitated, uncertainty stealing across his expression. The hesitation gave Tezuka opening enough to pry it from his grasp. Fingers fumbling with the knife, he pressed it against the vampire's neck. Ryoma stilled.

Was it really that easy? He didn't think he could actually kill a vampire with a switchblade – especially not one the vampire himself handled all the time – but he was a little in awe over how easy it had been to win that brief skirmish. Weren't vampires supposed to be ridiculously strong? He had rather easily overpowered his captor. He hadn't struggled sooner because of that very assumption, but Ryoma could barely match him; even now he was visibly straining against his hold, but Tezuka managed to keep him pinned without too much effort.

It would be stupid to look a gift horse in the mouth. He jerked them up into a standing position, keeping the steel pressed against the vampire's neck with one hand. Tezuka wrapped his other arm securely against Ryoma's body in a tight hug, pinning the vampire's arms against his sides. It was fortunate that the boy was so thin and at least a head shorter than him – any larger and he might have been able to break free.

The tables had turned. Trying to remain calm and keep his breathing steady, Tezuka walked them to the door. Ryoma hissed. "You're going to leave," he repeated.

"Yes," he replied evenly. "You've kept me here long enough."

"How will I drink?" The vampire's voice was thin and slightly panicked.

"I'm sure you'll figure something out." Ryoma squirmed slightly in his grasp, and Tezuka tightened his hold. He walked them steadily through the house, searching for an exit. He shouldered open the doors to several rooms, but they were all as empty as the one he came from, aside from the master bedroom that contained a suitcase and several boxes.

Finally, he spied a heavy door near what looked like a foyer. He started making his way towards that.

Ryoma started scrabbling frantically as they grew near, apparently uncaring about the blade at his throat. Tezuka dropped the knife, startled by the blood suddenly coating his hand. "No! Not outside!"

It must be daytime. Indeed, he thought he could spy the tiniest sliver of light peeking out underneath the door.

The smart thing to do would be to throw the vampire into the sunlight and make his escape. But Ryoma hadn't been that cruel to him – he might have imprisoned him and drank his blood, but he'd never been violent, and went to the trouble of providing him with books so that he wasn't bored. He even cooked for him, despite it being glaringly obvious that he was utter rubbish at it.

It had been a matter of survival. Tezuka couldn't hate him for it.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, then shoved the vampire away from him, back into the dark depths of the house. Ryoma stumbled and fell to the floor.

Tezuka twisted the doorknob. It gave way easily. He opened the door partway, slipped through the gap, and shut it firmly behind him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: **Second part! Third and final part up tomorrow.

* * *

**Crimson Trails**

By Sinnatious

Part 2/3

* * *

The warming kiss of sunlight on his face had been liberating. Tezuka stood on the path in front of the house for several minutes, partially blinded by the intensity of the glare after being stuck in that dark house for so long. Once his eyes were adjusted, he spent another couple of minutes marvelling at the blue sky. It seemed so vast all of a sudden.

Remembering himself, he cast a glance back at the house from which he had escaped. It took a moment, but he realised that he actually recognised it. He frequently passed it on his way to the convenience store, and more than once wondered why it hadn't been torn down yet – the little yard that was present was overgrown, and the paint on the exterior was badly peeling. Most people thought it abandoned.

Of course… he'd been quite close to home the night Ryoma ambushed him. Ostensibly, the vampire wouldn't have wanted to drag him far. At least he knew where he was. That made things easier.

Tezuka set out at a brisk walk. Just seeing other people on the street felt so alien to him after weeks with only Ryoma for company. More than a few people sent frightened glances at him, but he paid them no mind – all he could concentrate on was getting home.

When he made it back to his apartment, Tezuka realised that he had no clue what day it was, or even if anyone was looking for him. Day first. Flicking on the television, it didn't take too long to locate a news channel with the date in the corner. He sat down heavily on the couch.

A little over three weeks he'd been trapped in that house. It felt like months, but at times he wondered if it was only days. Now he had his answer.

What next? Should he call his bosses at work? His friends? His family? The police? Maybe Inui. Inui would be able to tell him everything that had been going on his absence. He wandered over the phone. Now that he was looking around properly, it did look like someone had been in his apartment in his absence. Someone had probably come looking for him, but left it when there weren't any signs of trouble.

Tezuka paused when reaching for the phone and stared at his hand, mildly disconcerted by the blood staining it. What…

That's right – he'd been holding the switchblade to Ryoma's throat. When the vampire started thrashing about it must have cut his neck. This was Ryoma's blood.

Abandoning the phone, Tezuka hurried to the bathroom to wash it off. No wonder those people in the street had given him such strange looks. Was Ryoma okay? He was a vampire – surely he couldn't die from something like that.

Tezuka sternly told himself to stop worrying. Ryoma could take care of himself. In any case, he refused to feel any sympathy for someone who attacked him in the middle of the night and held him against his will.

The rest of the day was spent trying to get his life back in order. Tezuka called Inui first. His colleague had been quite shocked by his sudden return. He spun some story about an old friend who had dragged him off on an impromptu camping trip, saying that he'd lost his mobile phone and so hadn't been able to call. The tale was full of holes, but Tezuka hung up on Inui before he could call him on it. Next was to alert the police that his mysterious disappearance had been an unfortunate misunderstanding and to apologise profusely for the trouble caused. In fact, he spent most of the day on the phone apologising to people. His rather flimsy cover story obviously didn't sit right with quite a few people, but what else could he tell them? The truth was far more unbelievable.

Naturally, his superiors at work hadn't been pleased with his unscheduled leave of absence, but since it was so out of character for him were willing to overlook it. Within a couple of days, life was back to normal. It was hard to believe those three weeks even happened.

Except that Tezuka couldn't forget. He was always careful to avoid being on the streets alone after dark, and wouldn't venture near that boarded up house unless the sun was high in the sky. It actually took him a few days to get used to sleeping on a proper bed again.

For a while it seemed like every little thing he did would remind him of the vampire. Eating meals brought forth memories of shoddily cooked instant dinners. Talking to friends reminded him of conversations after eating. Even the sun and moon reminded him of Ryoma.

His friends noticed his distraction, but he brushed it off. He really ought to move on already and just forget that those weeks had ever happened… but the more Tezuka thought about it, the more things troubled him. Was it guilt? In escaping, he had likely condemned some other poor individual into being Ryoma's food supply. Imagining the boy sucking on the wrist of some other unfortunate stranger bothered him immensely.

It wasn't just guilt, he decided. In retrospective contemplation, there were a lot of things that didn't add up. There were so many mysteries that were left unsolved. Like the books about vampires. Why had Ryoma been so eager for him to read them?

The house itself was strange, too. He hadn't really seen anything outside of his bedroom and the bathroom until his escape, but looking back it had been very odd. The rest of the house was just as the sparsely furnished as the room he'd been kept in. He had spied a small refrigerator and microwave in the kitchen, and a couch in the living room, but in his search through the other rooms while looking for an exit hadn't seen any other furniture. There ought to at least have been a mattress in one of the bedrooms – Ryoma had to sleep somewhere.

Ryoma's desperate hunger when he described subsisting off animal blood. Then the sunlight… Ryoma had reacted so violently when Tezuka had approached the door. Hadn't he read something…

A week and a half after his escape, Tezuka found himself on the doorstep of the boarded up house contemplating his sanity. It was foolish to come back here. Ryoma might be angry and drink all of his blood this time. But he didn't think so. The more he thought about it, the more suspicious he grew. He _needed_ to know.

It was daytime, so at least he ought to be able to escape outside should things start to go badly. Taking a deep breath, Tezuka reached for the doorknob. It didn't yield under his grasp. Frowning, he cast his eyes about, searching for a key. His eyes landed on a rock in the corner of the yard. He picked it up and turned it over. Sure enough, a rusted key was stuck to the underside. Did Ryoma even know about it? It looked like this key had been there for years.

He unlocked the door, and cautiously turned the handle. The door creaked open ominously. Taking a deep breath, Tezuka stepped across the bright threshold and entered the shadows once more.

It took a minute for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. Ryoma always left some lights on, but he'd obviously replaced them all with low-wattage bulbs, as they were scarcely bright enough to reach the corners of the rooms. He hadn't noticed the difference until he'd gone outside. Steeling his nerves, Tezuka ventured deeper into the house. His gait faltered briefly when he saw a dried pool of blood in the hallway, but he set his jaw and determinedly continued.

He kept his footsteps light as he walked through the dark house. Finally, he arrived at the living room. Sprawled out on the couch was a familiar silhouette. Tezuka approached it tentatively, and sucked in breath at the sight of a sleeping Ryoma spread out on it.

He didn't feel quite so annoyed at being forced to sleep on the floor anymore with the knowledge that Ryoma slept on a couch. Again, it didn't at all match the fanciful images he had summoned of the vampire sleeping in an elaborate coffin or on a four-poster bed with black silk sheets.

Tezuka selected a spot against the wall and slid down against it, content to wait until the vampire awoke on his own. Ryoma looked completely different while asleep. While awake, he was amused, bored, or scowling, but unconscious… it was hard to pinpoint it. He looked tired, but that was ridiculous – how could someone look tired while resting?

Ryoma's mouth opened slightly as he breathed in and out in a gentle rhythm. In the gap between his parted lips, Tezuka could glimpse a single fang. Were they easy to talk around? Ryoma wasn't particularly talkative, so it was hard to pick up on any unusual speech patterns.

There wasn't much else to look at in the room, so he settled for watching Ryoma closely. There were lots of little details that fascinated him when he wasn't distracted by fear or concern or claustrophobia – like the way his lashes brushed against his cheeks, and the almost feminine curve of his collarbone. Tezuka winced when he caught sight of the remains of a glaring red wound across the pale throat. To think that he had caused it… it probably would have killed any normal person without medical attention. Especially as it still hadn't fully healed after more than a week…

He patiently waited for Ryoma to stir. Tezuka had a lot of practice at waiting by now.

Two hours later, his efforts were awarded when those eyelashes fluttered, revealing a pair of sleepy golden eyes to the world. Ryoma yawned, rolling his head to the side. He lay there for a good minute and a half, staring into the space, before suddenly bolting upright on the couch.

"_You_," he hissed.

"Good evening, Ryoma," Tezuka greeted pleasantly.

The vampire's expression was almost feral; his eyes darted about the room frantically, searching the shadows for threats. "Have you come to kill me?" he rasped.

"No," he replied levelly. "It's just me here."

Ryoma relaxed, but only slightly. He regarded Tezuka warily, fingers ghosting across the jagged red line on his neck.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry about that. It was not my intention to hurt you. I merely wished to escape."

Eyebrows drawn together, Ryoma asked, "Why have you come back?"

"I had to understand."

That seemed to confuse the vampire. "Understand?"

Tezuka kept his gaze steady. He'd seen the expression when Ryoma first noticed him, and the way his hands shook when glancing about the room for hidden dangers. Ryoma had been scared. It all but confirmed his suspicions. "…You're just a newborn, aren't you?"

Golden eyes burned brightly. "What are you talking about?!"

"I was the first person you ever drank blood from, wasn't I?" Tezuka stated, slightly amazed.

Ryoma leapt to his feet. It might have been impressive in a cape, but it was hardly threatening in jeans and a shirt. "Shut up!"

Tezuka gestured to the books splayed out on the floor next to the couch. "Why else would _you_ need to read about vampires?"

"Shut up!" he repeated, voice rising.

"You have absolutely no clue what you're doing, do you?" Tezuka continued. "You didn't want to kill anyone, right? That's why you were trying to survive off animal blood. But it wasn't enough. You needed a human. But you couldn't leave a trail of bodies. That was dangerous. It would be better to kidnap one, and drink from them regularly without turning them."

Ryoma glared at him. "I hate you."

"I thought it was odd that you weren't that strong, and couldn't do anything when I escaped. And when you were frightened of the sunlight… an older vampire wouldn't have been so worried about a couple of seconds of sunlight." Tezuka had turned everything over in his head again and again, and it was all starting to fit.

"You don't know anything!"

"How long have you actually been a vampire for?"

A long silence. Eventually, Ryoma slumped bonelessly into the couch, apparently defeated. "…Four months."

"You held out that long?" Tezuka was mildly impressed.

He folded his arms and looked away.

Four months ago, had Ryoma just been another unfortunate stranger like him? "What did you do before? Did you work or go to school? Did you have friends or family? Do they know what's happened to you?"

"Stop asking so many questions!" Ryoma complained, throwing his arms up in exasperation. "Yes! I was in university. I have no idea what my family thinks! I'm probably assumed dead! Technically, I _am_ dead! I really don't like thinking about it! Are you happy?!"

Tezuka shook his head. "What on earth happened? Who turned you? Shouldn't you have a master?"

A scowl stretched across the annoyed vampire's face. "What does it matter? The bastard just did it for kicks, and left me here without telling me a thing. The only thing he explained was the bit about the fangs, right before he bit my throat." A hand rubbed the side of his neck self-consciously.

He recalled Ryoma's upset when he mentioned his lack of desire to look after a newborn. Tezuka had assumed a previous newborn had gone bad – not that Ryoma himself was one.

It changed everything. Tezuka rolled up his sleeve, and exposed his wrist. "Are you hungry?"

Golden eyes widened, wandering to his face. "What?" His voice was barely a whisper.

"You're hungry. You haven't drunk anything for over a week, right?" If he'd read the boy's personality right, he doubted the vampire had gone out to find another human to prey on yet.

"But… you…"

"It's okay. I'm offering," he said softly.

Ryoma tentatively left the couch, shuffling over to him, eyes hungrily focused on the exposed wrist. "You're… you mean…"

"I have no intention of being a prisoner, but I'll help you out. You still need someone to provide blood, don't you?"

A pair of solemn eyes regarded him. "Higher."

"Excuse me?"

Ryoma fidgeted. "The blood higher up your arm was sweeter."

Blinking, Tezuka spent a moment processing that information. "Ah. That makes sense. That's probably why vampires always want to drink from the neck. Blood has a higher oxygen content the closer to the heart." He shrugged his arm out of his shirt, and exposed his collarbone. "Very well. But be careful not to cut too deep."

Fumbling with the switchblade, Ryoma lurched over to him and knelt on the ground. He hesitated only an instant before slicing the sharp blade across the collarbone, leaving a shallow cut. Tezuka winced, but nodded his permission as Ryoma glanced at him nervously.

The vampire descended upon his shoulder ravenously, licking and sucking at the wound fervently. Tezuka placed his hand on the green-black hair and stroked it a little fondly.

Tezuka had not understood before. If Ryoma had been honest from the beginning, he would have certainly been more willing to cooperate. He had no desire to become some ancient vampire's pet. Helping out an unlucky teen who'd been thrown unwillingly into these circumstances was a different matter altogether. It weighed heavily on his mind that how he handled things could be the difference between Ryoma keeping his humanity and becoming a bloodthirsty murderer.

* * *

Tezuka didn't bother knocking on the front door to the house anymore. He entered to find Ryoma sitting cross-legged on the floor of the living room, eyes closed and an expression of fierce concentration on his face.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"I've been trying to turn into mist," came the grumbled response. "Since those books said…" Giving up, the vampire leapt to his feet and ran over. "You're here early today."

"It's the weekend, I didn't have work," Tezuka explained, amused.

"In that case you should have come over earlier!" Ryoma complained. "I was bored."

Their relationship had apparently inverted. Instead of Ryoma coming to visit him in his room at various hours of day, it was now Tezuka who visited the vampire's house in the evenings. The reversal caused a rather startling change in attitude. Ryoma had lost some of his cold and aloof demeanour lately, revealing something of a cheeky and playful side that belied his true age.

That didn't mean he'd lost of all of his arrogance, unfortunately. Tezuka didn't pay it any mind; knowing what he did now, he suspected the newborn vampire was just trying to cover up his insecurities. He was also still horribly lazy, but Tezuka was beginning to think that was a personality trait carried over from his pre-vampirism days.

"Bored again?"

A growl. "Couldn't sleep. And there's nothing to do in this house during the day."

"Hmm. I brought something that might help you with that." Tezuka opened his bag, and withdrew several small boxes.

Ryoma's eyes widened. "Is that-?"

Handing over the parcels, Tezuka asked, "You did say that you used to play video games, right? It doesn't look like you have a television, so I thought a handheld device…"

Amber eyes were gleaming in anticipation as they inspected the goods. "I didn't even realise this was out yet!" He tore off the packaging and carelessly dropped it to the floor. Tezuka picked it up with a sigh and deposited in the kitchen. Ryoma spent several minutes unpacking the spoils, then several more eagerly hunting for a power point to plug the machine into to charge.

While the battery filled up, he practically danced back to Tezuka's side. "I got you some new books too." He handed over two detective novels – during a previous conversation Tezuka had mentioned a preference for the genre.

"You do realise that I can buy my own books now?"

Ryoma looked slightly peeved at that, so Tezuka hurriedly accepted the books. "Thank you for going to the trouble anyway. I'm sure they will be excellent." Ryoma's face relaxed back into a smirk. "Are you hungry?"

"I'm _always_ hungry." Tezuka wondered how much blood a vampire needed to drink a day to be properly satiated. Maybe it was just because Ryoma was a newborn? Like how teenagers were in a constant state of starvation. Hopefully he passed through the phase soon – unless they could convince someone else to become a willing donor Tezuka was all there was, and he could only contribute a finite amount of blood per day.

"You want to feed?" he asked, undoing the first few buttons on his shirt.

"You should eat first," Ryoma insisted. Tezuka nearly fainted the last time the vampire drank his blood because he hadn't eaten beforehand. He hurried into the kitchen and started haphazardly plucking things out of the refrigerator.

"I'll cook," Tezuka interrupted, pushing the boy aside. "No offence, but you're not very good at it."

Ryoma glowered, but sat down obediently at the table. "I had no way to know. I can't taste regular food anymore. I might as well be eating dirt." The bitterness in his voice was almost palpable.

"I suppose that is why there aren't any fat vampires in fiction," he observed.

Ryoma chuckled at that, then stretched out languidly across the table. "How long will it take? I'm huuuuungry."

"Don't be so impatient," Tezuka chided. "Wait like a civilized human."

"In case you haven't noticed, I'm hardly human anymore."

"It's our choices that define us," he retorted steadily. "Just because you are a vampire doesn't mean you should forget your manners."

Ryoma was silent at that, but looked a little annoyed at being lectured. When Tezuka sat down to eat, he muttered, "You treat me like a kid. Just because I'm a newborn…"

"Human or vampire, you're still a child," Tezuka observed.

"It's not like you're that much older than me!" Ryoma bristled.

"I would not have guessed. Do you even know how to do laundry? That shirt has blood stains all over it."

Ryoma glanced down at it. "Hmmm, so it does. Do you think they're yours or mine?"

Tezuka rolled his eyes. "You're hopeless."

* * *

"What's this?" Ryoma asked, leaning over his shoulder. Tezuka had floor plans spread out over the table.

"I didn't want to make you wait, so I brought work with me today."

Ryoma hummed in approval, and rested his chin on his shoulder.

"Not thinking of going for my throat next are you?" Tezuka asked lightly. He would be lying if he didn't still occasionally feel the slightest hint of nervousness around the vampire.

To his surprise, the bright golden eyes became shuttered. "No," was the curt reply.

Ryoma left his side and went and played games on his handheld in the corner. Tezuka didn't miss the way that pale hand rubbed anxiously at an equally pale throat, but he didn't ask.

* * *

Ryoma knelt over him, tongue lapping at a small incision on his chest. Tezuka was lying on his back – it made the dizziness easier to deal with. He was just thankful that none of his co-workers had noticed his collection of bandaids and bandages. Being able to wear long sleeves at work all day without raising suspicion probably helped in that regard. At least the shallow cuts seemed to heal rather quickly. In the latest book Tezuka found in the library, there had been a suggestion that vampire spit possessed healing properties. It would account for the fact that so long as a cut wasn't reopened, it would usually heal without scarring within a day or two.

Ryoma shifted, swinging his leg over his waist to get into a better position. He was effectively straddling him, knees pressing into his sides as he bent his head to capture the precious crimson liquid. Tezuka felt his face grow warm and mentally cursed that pile of trashy gothic romance novels for making him so uncomfortable.

"Ryoma."

The vampire paused in his feeding, eyes opening to appraise him. "Already?"

Tezuka nodded, and Ryoma backed away with a sigh, fishing out a bandaid and smoothing it out over the thin line of red. Tezuka caught his hand before he could retreat.

"Promise me," Tezuka said seriously. "Promise that you'll never kill anyone. Promise me that you'll never become a monster."

Golden eyes bored into hazel. "I'm not going to, you know. Just because you read some book that…"

"Promise."

"Che. Fine."

* * *

"Why haven't you bought a bed yet?" Tezuka asked as he redid the buttons on his shirt. Lying on the floor or couch while Ryoma had his nightly feast wasn't particularly comfortable.

Scowling, the vampire replied, "Furniture store opening hours don't agree with me."

"Couldn't you get it delivered… oh." He would still have to open the door to the delivery people. "…I could do it."

"Hm?"

"I could accept the delivery. You could hide in one of the bedrooms so you don't have to worry about the light, and I'll accept it for you."

A thoughtful expression, then a wicked smile. "Make it a king size."

* * *

Tezuka walked briskly down the street – the moon was already high in the sky, spreading its long silvery fingers of light across the empty paths. Work had run quite late, and upon arriving home his mother had called and kept him on the phone for another hour. Ryoma was going to give him an earful for making him wait.

The boarded up house came into view, and his footsteps quickened at the sight of his destination. Overgrown weeds brushed at his trousers as he entered the property. He paused when he reached the door. It creaked quietly in a brief gust of wind, displaying a sliver of the dark house beyond.

Was Ryoma not home? The door was always closed, even if it wasn't locked. _Always_.

Hesitantly, Tezuka pushed lightly on the door, wincing at the strangled creak of the hinges.

There was something off about the house. It was difficult to put his finger on it, but the vibe had changed.

Voices were coming from the living room. Curious, Tezuka ventured deeper, worry clenching at his gut. Ryoma hadn't become so hungry while waiting that he'd ambushed some other unsuspecting pedestrian, right?

The sight that greeted him as he stepped across the threshold was not what he expected.

Another vampire. There was no mistaking it. While Ryoma was pale, the stranger's skin was almost paper-white. It matched his spiky hair and long, gleaming fangs. He currently had the smaller vampire pinned, struggling, against the wall. A suitcase lay at their feet.

"Where's the rest of the money?" the white-haired vampire growled.

Ryoma glared, baring his fangs. "I used it."

"You _what_?"

"What did you expect? You turn me into a vampire and then leave me here in this empty abandoned house without an explanation. I had to buy stuff. I can't exactly work a job, you know."

Tezuka realised that he recognised the suitcase. He'd seen it before on his initial escape from the house, in the unused master bedroom. It was sitting open now, and he could spy messy piles of bank notes scattered within.

His mind back-pedalled to Ryoma's last statement. _This_ was the vampire that turned Ryoma and then abandoned him?

He swallowed harshly, and immediately regretted the action as two golden pairs of eyes swivelled to stare at him like beacons in the darkness.

The face of the stranger twisted into a manic smile. "Oh ho, what's this?"

"Run!" Ryoma shouted.

Tezuka made to take a step backwards. The other vampire slammed Ryoma against the wall. Tezuka was alarmed to see the wood crack and splinter under the force of the impact. "Stay right where you are."

Instinct told him to put as much distance between himself and this individual as possible, but he wasn't about to abandon Ryoma. "Who are you?"

Ignoring him, the white-haired vampire turned back to the boy in his grasp. "Heh. So that's how you did it. I'll give you points for originality, brat. But you'll never grow strong that way."

"Don't care. Don't need to," Ryoma spat.

Harsh, barking laughter filled the room. "This is priceless! I knew you were a crazy punk!" His grin widened. "I'm glad I let you live now. It's entertaining. I could use a good fight. I'm willing to overlook the money if you give me one."

The money. This was the other vampire's spare base. Tezuka had always just assumed… He must have picked Ryoma up on the street and brought him here to feed, then left. Once or twice Tezuka had wondered where it was the money for the books and furniture came from, but never thought to ask. Given the other vampire's disposition, it was probably stolen.

The grip on Ryoma slackened and he dropped to the floor, knees folding underneath him. "Though you're not a match for me currently. How about this, brat? I'll give you a week. If you drink a couple of people empty every night, you should be strong enough for some fun by then."

Tezuka's throat went dry. Surely Ryoma wouldn't…

The smaller vampire staggered to his feet. "Forget it. I'm not like you."

"Heh. You're a stubborn bastard." There was a flash of movement, and Tezuka's breath hitched when a pale hand gripped his shoulder painfully from behind. When did he-? "Perhaps you need some motivation?"

"Idiot!" Ryoma yelled. 'Why didn't you run?!"

"You're awfully attached to your food, I see," a harsh voice observed, sounding painfully loud next to his ear. "New rules, brat! I'll be taking him with me. If you want him back, you'd better start getting in touch with your vampire instincts. You won't have a chance otherwise."

No. This was all wrong. Tezuka tried to wrest free of the grip, but it was like steel. "Ryoma! Don't you _dare_ break your-" His words were cut off when pain blossomed in the back of his skull.

As his vision blurred and faded, a single mocking voice cut through the descending fog. "Akutsu Jin. Pleasure to meet you."


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: **Vampire AU complete! This hasn't entirely changed my opinion on vampire stories, but it was more enjoyable to write than anticipated. I hope some of you enjoyed it also.

* * *

**Crimson Trails**

By Sinnatious

Part 3/3

* * *

The world stubbornly refused to come into focus. Tezuka felt his neck roll – it didn't seem to be up to task of keeping his head upright. It took a monumental exertion of will to force his eyes open, and when he did it was an even greater struggle to keep them from sliding shut again.

His mind worked sluggishly. There was something important. This wasn't home. The abandoned house…?

No, a different house, though it was similar. Why was it so hard to _think_?

After several minutes, his head finally started to clear. Tezuka took several deep breaths. This would be a bad time to panic. Right, take stock of the situation.

Looking around, it appeared he was inside in a room not dissimilar to the one Ryoma had once locked him in. This one at least had a ratty mattress in one corner. Opening a sliding door, Tezuka was surprised to find a small bathroom instead of the expected wardrobe. It wasn't very clean, but at least there was access to water and a toilet.

The window was boarded up, though not very well – glimmers of light were visible through the cracks. Tezuka tugged on the boards hopefully, but they held securely.

Grand. It appeared that once again he found himself captive to a vampire. What were the odds?

He had the sinking feeling that this vampire would not be as accommodating a host as Ryoma had been.

Heavy footsteps thudded through the hall, and the door swung open with a crash. Tezuka turned, preparing himself for trouble.

The tall white-haired vampire took up the entire doorway. He was clutching a store-bought bento. "Heh, took you long enough to wake up. Humans are so _fragile_." He threw the bento carelessly to the ground at Tezuka's feet. _Akutsu_, his mind supplied. That was the name that had been announced so mockingly before he fell unconscious the night before. It was only last night, right?

"You eat that. Got to keep you alive so that the brat can find us."

"Find us?" Tezuka asked.

"Heh, you don't even know that? If he's been drinking your blood that long, he'll be able to track you down. Like a blood hound scenting its favourite prey." Akutsu's eyes were also golden, Tezuka noted, but they didn't shine as brightly as Ryoma's did. It was probably not an appropriate time to be making such observations.

"What are you planning?" he asked cautiously.

"I'm not planning anything." Akutsu grinned, fully displaying a wicked pair of incisors. He looked truly insane. "I just want a good fight. Killing the brat as he is now won't be any fun."

_Kill_… "You'd kill him? You turn him, and then kill him just for a thrill?" Tezuka asked in disbelief, a cold fury burning in his chest.

"Don't lecture me. I never intended to turn the brat," he scoffed. "Newborns are such a pain."

"Then why…"

"Little troublemaker wouldn't stop fighting me. After I bit his neck, he had the nerve to punch me in the face!" Akutsu grinned wider at that, amber eyes gleeful. "Tore my fangs right out of his neck. It must have hurt like a bitch."

Tezuka flinched. Ryoma had lived through something like that?

"Course, since I'd just bit him, he didn't die… not even with half his neck missing. I could have finished him off, but I wanted to see what a crazy punk like him would do. I certainly didn't expect him to go and get himself a pet."

Tezuka gave the vampire a stony glare. "I am no pet."

"Heh, whatever you say." He leant forward with a leer. "Or does the brat exchange something for all that blood?"

His fist trembled he was clenching it so hard. "You're sick." It was a struggle to keep his voice even.

Akutsu laughed again. The sound was grating. "Ha! That upsets you? Maybe I was wrong about which one was the pet. But it doesn't matter." He suddenly struck, hand burying itself in the wood next to Tezuka's face. "The brat used up a heap of money I had hidden away. He's going to give me a good fight in compensation, then I'll kill him. And after I've killed him, I'll drain you dry." He withdrew his fist, splinters and dust falling to the floor. Tezuka eyed it warily. Apparently the myth about super-human vampire strength had some merit to it after all.

"Now eat up. And stay quiet. Otherwise, I might just be tempted to get rid of you before he turns up." Akutsu turned on his heel and slunk out the door, slamming it shut with a resounding band behind him.

Tezuka knelt on the floor, carefully retrieving the store-bought bento. He let out a breath he didn't realise he'd been holding.

Akutsu was a completely different vampire. He was obviously a lot older, and clearly had no problems with killing for his food. How many people had he murdered in his lifetime?

He was a monster. All he existed for was shallow thrills. He was phenomenally strong. He had punched clean through the wood of the wall and cracked the brick on the other side with nothing more than his bare fist.

Ryoma didn't have a chance. If _Tezuka_ could overpower him, what hope did the slight vampire have fighting this beast?

Unless Ryoma hunted people non-stop and drank them dry. His mind called forth a number of horrifying images of cat-like golden eyes peering from the darkness; a body cloaked in flowing black fabric, blood dribbling down a pale chin and hands coated in crimson. Tezuka shuddered.

Then his mind flipped to another image – this one a thoroughly human Ryoma, so desperate to survive that he'd torn half his neck out, with blood coating shredded clothing and pooling on the floor around him.

Ryoma was clearly committed to survival. But which of the two visions did Tezuka dread more?

Things had been going so well. How did it all fall apart so abruptly?

Tezuka sighed, unwrapping the bento and taking a bite out of a rice ball. He might as well have been eating cardboard for how much he could taste it.

* * *

Tezuka idly pulled at the splintered wood around the hole Akutsu had made in the wall. It was hell being locked in this room with nothing but his and Ryoma's impending fate to occupy him.

Three days had passed already. His employers were likely displeased by this second unscheduled leave of absence, but Tezuka couldn't bring himself to care. If they made it out of this intact, he'd happily find another job.

Could Akutsu actually kill Ryoma, or was that an empty threat? If Ryoma survived having fangs forcefully torn from his neck right after being bitten, and then Tezuka's unfortunate slip with the knife after that, maybe he would be okay no matter what?

Akutsu didn't seem like the type to make empty threats, though. In all the books Tezuka had read on the subject, there was only a small handful that mentioned fights between vampires. All of them suggested that death was possible with enough damage – usually a blow straight through the heart or a complete decapitation. Tezuka shuddered, and pursued his destruction of the wall more intently. It was not a pleasant thought to entertain.

Maybe Ryoma would just abandon him? He could always find another person on the streets to steal small amounts of blood from daily, the way he had with Tezuka. It made his heart clench, but it was the preferable outcome. Ryoma would survive, and he wouldn't turn into a murderer like Akutsu. It would be a worthwhile sacrifice.

Where would he go, though? Akutsu would probably eventually go back to that house if his opponent didn't come to him.

As much as he hoped that Ryoma would vanish and not foolishly come after him, Tezuka suspected that wouldn't be the case. After all, the vampire hadn't sought out new prey in that week after his escape, despite being obviously hungry. And Akutsu was right in his observation that Ryoma had grown attached. Tezuka had grown attached too – were their situations reversed, he might very well try a rescue himself. But to have any hope of success, Ryoma would need to drink a lot of blood; at least enough to have a _chance_ against Akutsu. Even if he found a small crowd of willing donors – which was highly unlikely – it wouldn't be enough.

Tezuka could only see one solution. If he could find a way to escape, then Ryoma wouldn't _need_ to kill anyone.

A decently large plank of wood splintered and broke free. He hefted it in his hands and tested the end. Not sharp enough to serve as a stake. No matter – he wouldn't be fast enough to match Akutsu anyway. He took his prize to the door, listened for footsteps, and then slowly started prying at the hinges.

"Wait for me Ryoma," he whispered, stabbing at the pivots are hard as he dared.

* * *

Tezuka thumped his head against the back of the wall, out of ideas. The splintered remains of the plank were scattered on the ground next to the battered but still thoroughly attached hinges. He nursed his right hand against his chest. Akutsu hadn't been pleased. It was lucky all he'd escaped with was a sprained wrist and a few bruises for his efforts. Tezuka mentally added 'excellent hearing' to the list of abilities of older vampires.

Was it all for naught? Had it been a fool's hope that he could stop a scared and confused boy from turning into a monster?

He didn't want to lose Ryoma. He didn't want to lose him to the darkness. He didn't want him to die.

Tezuka was no fool. He knew he hadn't returned to that house purely out of kindness. There were selfish motivations buried within his altruism. Despite the circumstances, Ryoma peaked his curiosity. He'd come to enjoy the young vampire's company. More than once he thought it a shame that he'd never met the boy as a human. His friendships at work with his colleagues felt suddenly superficial and shallow when he recalled the companionable silences shared in that dark, abandoned house. Their exchanges always possessed a surreal element, but Tezuka came to look forward to them more than anything else in his day.

A part of him wondered if perhaps it was some sort of belated Stockholm's syndrome at work. A larger part of him didn't care. It was a complex tapestry of emotions that he couldn't unravel. Or perhaps didn't want to unravel.

The door slammed open. Akutsu threw in another store bought bento. "You better hope that brat turns up soon," he snarled.

"I don't," Tezuka dully replied.

Akutsu didn't bother to stick around and argue the point, slamming the door behind him once more.

_Don't come, _Tezuka repeated in his head. _Stay away._

Hopefully Ryoma kept his promises.

* * *

Seven days.

Tezuka cleaned his glasses for what had to be the thirtieth time in as many minutes. His palms were sweaty and his heart thudded nervously in his chest.

He leapt to his feet when he heard heavy footsteps thudding down the hallway. It took all of his resolve to resist jumping when the door smashed open. Akutsu stood framed in the doorway, arms folded.

"I'm tired of waiting," he announced, a manic expression in his eyes.

Tezuka's blood ran cold, but he steeled himself. He was going to die with dignity. At least if he was dead, Ryoma would not need to kill others so that he could fight evenly with Akutsu.

He didn't move, not even as Akutsu's arm snaked out and grasped the front of his shirt. "I guess we'll see if your blood really is that tasty, then," he hissed threateningly. Tezuka remained stone-faced. Akutsu sneered at that, apparently displeased by the lack of reaction.

"You don't care that the brat hasn't come for you?" he taunted, slamming him into the wall. Tezuka winced, but didn't answer.

"Heh. You're no fun," he remarked. He dragged Tezuka forward, and breathed against his neck. "Oh well. I was feeling peckish anyway."

There was a mighty crash from downstairs. Akutsu paused, turning away and cocking his ear towards the door. With a snarl, he dropped Tezuka and stormed out into the hallway.

A second later he burst back through the wall.

Akutsu swore as he hit the ground. "The hell-?"

Stepping through the hole that Akutsu had left in his wake was a rather familiar green-haired vampire.

"Ryoma…" Tezuka breathed. Was he hallucinating?

He expected the white-haired vampire to be enraged as he picked himself up off the floor. Instead, Akutsu was grinning maniacally. He let out a harsh bark of laughter. "You brat! How did you do it? How many humans did you drain to get that strong in one week?!"

What?

"Shut up," was all he said.

"Oh no, I'm going to enjoy this." Akutsu cracked his knuckles, then his neck, advancing on the smaller vampire with a maniacal grin. "I wasn't expecting to have this much fun." He darted forward, fist outstretched. Ryoma caught it, the floor beneath his feet cracking at the impact.

"Heh, not good enough brat!" Akutsu crowed, swinging a leg around. Tezuka blinked. Ryoma… disappeared?

Akutsu appeared confused as well, his leg dragging a long gouge through the already badly damaged wall as he was thrown off balance. A moment later, the shorter vampire materialised behind him. A flash of silver swept through the air, and blood spattered in a messy arc on the ground.

Akutsu stumbled forward, clutching at his bleeding shoulder. His expression turned from gleeful to feral. "You…. How?"

Ryoma didn't respond. He darted forward with such speed that Tezuka's eyes could barely keep up, and delivered a solid kick to the other vampire's chest. Tezuka thought he heard ribs cracking as the white-haired vampire crashed back into the hallway.

Grunting and coughing, Akutsu pulled himself from the debris. His cockiness had vanished as he sized up his opponent. Ryoma's eyes were narrowed and focused solely on his enemy.

Ryoma was fighting Akutsu, and _winning_.

Tezuka closed his eyes. He'd failed.

It had all been for naught. Ryoma had killed. He'd thrown away the humanity he'd been clinging to in order to save him. He was going to become a monster just like Akutsu, and it was entirely his fault.

Several more thuds, and then another crash. Tezuka opened his eyes hesitantly. Akutsu was sprawled out on the floor, Ryoma standing above him.

"Heh…. Ha ha ha," he chuckled weakly. "I can't believe this. I didn't think you had it in you brat. You must have been hunting non-stop every night. You turned out more interesting than I imagined."

Ryoma flipped the switchblade in his hand. Akutsu rolled backwards, landing on the soles of his feet and swaying slightly. Tezuka was mildly alarmed by the splashes of blood decorating the hallway.

"Take the damn house," Akutsu hissed. "Troublesome little punk! I don't care what you do so long as you keep out my business from now on!"

It was Akutsu who intruded on their business in the first place, but diplomacy was probably the wisest course in this situation. Ryoma seemed to think so as well, as he stood back, letting the hand holding the knife fall to his side.

They faced off for a long moment before Akutsu slunk away like a cat retreating to lick his wounds. Once he was no longer visible, Ryoma stepped back through the hole in the wall into the room. "Tezuka!" He ran over to his side, hands running across his head and neck and arms, checking him for injuries. He paused at his wrist, eyes narrowing, and looked back towards the hallway.

"Forget it."

"I should do the same to his human," Ryoma mumbled.

"There's someone else here?" Tezuka asked in surprise.

He tilted his head. "You can't hear the voices? Some guy speaking really bad English. Hnnn, sounds like someone's in trouble." The slightest of smirks graced the vampire's lips. "Hypocrite. He acts so tough, too." His attention turned back to Tezuka. "Are you okay? Can you walk? What's with that expression?"

"You broke your promise," he replied flatly.

Ryoma glared at him. "I did not."

"How did you get so strong in a week?" Tezuka demanded. "How many people did you kill?"

"I didn't kill anyone!" Ryoma replied stubbornly.

"Then how…"

"It was your idea," he responded petulantly, clearly annoyed at his doubt. "And then you left those hospital floor plans all over the house…"

Tezuka's eyes widened in realisation. "You raided the blood bank?"

Ryoma shrugged. "It was easier than I thought it would be… although it probably wouldn't work twice. I drank enough to make myself sick. Three hospitals' worth."

That would make for an interesting news story. Tezuka closed his eyes in relief. He'd been so scared…

Ryoma slumped. "I'm tired now, though. I guess using up energy..."

Tezuka ruffled his hair. "I'm proud of you. I was worried."

"Che, you didn't believe in me?"

He just dragged the vampire down into a one-armed hug. "I was frightened for you."

A pale hand clutched at his shirt. After a moment, Ryoma pulled away, asking eagerly, "Did you see? I finally figured out how to turn into mist!"

Tezuka blinked. "That's what that was?"

"Yeah. Hey, we should probably hurry." Ryoma dragged him to his feet. "There's not long left until sunrise."

"You're injured," Tezuka observed worriedly, eyes lighting upon a long gash along the vampire's forearm that was sluggishly dripping blood.

"He got in a couple of lucky shots," Ryoma dismissed, tugging on his good arm. "Come _on_. It's almost an hour's walk."

Tezuka was eager to get out of that house, so hurried his pace. As they left the building, though, he remembered something.

"Before… you called me by my name."

Ryoma glanced back at him. "I did?"

"You did."

"So?"

"That's the first time you've ever called me by my name," Tezuka said faintly.

Ryoma frowned. "Really?"

"Really."

"Hn. Fancy that." He was anxiously watching the skyline. "Is that twilight? Hurry _up_!"

They ran down the dark, deserted streets. Tezuka felt his face stretch into a smile. "…Do you think we can spare the time to stop by my apartment on the way?"

* * *

Birds were chirping outside – by the time they made it back to the abandoned house the very first rays of sunlights were peeking above the horizon. It had been a rather close call.

"Aaaahh, I'm tired," Ryoma yawned, kicking off his sneakers.

Tezuka nodded in agreement. "I'm going to take a shower and wrap this up," he indicated, raising his wrist.

"You're staying?" the vampire asked, perking up slightly.

Tezuka handed over the packages he'd retrieved from his apartment. "Here. For the bed." He left to have his shower.

When he emerged freshly cleaned and feeling better for it, he headed to the bedroom the bed had been placed in. Ryoma was staring at the king size bed, perplexed. "Is there a problem?"

"This is what we stopped at your apartment for?"

"Yes. We ordered the bed, but you didn't have any sheets."

Ryoma raised an eyebrow. "But… black silk sheets?"

"And red pillowcases." Tezuka confirmed.

Ryoma stared at him. "You've been reading too many trashy gothic romance novels."

"…_You_ bought them for me."


End file.
